"Sarah smiles like Sarah doesn't care, she lives in a world so unaware. Does she know that my destiny lies with her?"
Sarah Smiles, Panic! At the Disco
Sometimes I just want to give up on life.
It's been two months of pain, of pure unrelenting agony. Because it's been two months since she died.
Nine months ago we found out she was pregnant. Five months ago we found out it was a girl. Sarah Elizabeth Goldsworthy was the name we chose. I loved it, Clare loved it, CeCe and Bullfrog loved it; Helen and Randall were still not happy about Clare and I's marriage.
It happened on June 22nd. Clare went into labor three days before the due date. We were ecstatic. I drove her to the hospital and they checked her into a room almost immediately.
But there were complications, problems I still don't know the details of to this day. Sarah made it out of that room alive, but Clare Edwards-Goldsworthy, the love of my life, didn't.
Right after Sarah was born, they took both of my girls away, in different directions though. They only had Sarah for a little while before I had her back in my arms but Clare was gone for what seemed like hours, when in reality it was probably no more than forty-five minutes. I stayed in the room with Sarah, awaiting Clare's return.
Instead, I got a doctor. He had a sterile look to him: white coat, clean-shaven, white-blonde hair. He walked up to me.
"Are you Mr. Goldsworthy?" He asked. I frowned and stood up, putting Sarah in her crib next to the empty bed.
"Yeah," I said. "Do you have any news about my wife? She's been gone for a while and…" I didn't want to finish the sentence.
"I'm sorry," he said, sympathy in his voice. "She didn't make it. There were complications with…" He continued but I couldn't hear over the roaring in my ears.
Clare.
Was.
Dead.
That was two months ago. She's been dead for two months.
I changed Sarah's name. Instead of Sarah Elizabeth, her birth certificate says Sarah Clare Goldsworthy. Her mother's legacy will live on through my daughter. Sarah will never be able to forget the mother she'll never know.
Some days are harder than others. Sarah is a reminder of everything I once had and lost. She is a spitting image of Clare; her hair, nose, and mouth are all the same as Clare's. But she has my eyes, deep green and curious about everything. They are the only things that show I am actually her father.
Sometimes I want to hate her.
When that happens, I have to remind myself that she did nothing wrong. She couldn't help being born. Sarah is my daughter and I have to love her regardless. Just because she is the reason I no longer see the woman I've loved since my junior year of high school doesn't mean I can feel any dislike towards her.
This little two month old girl has saved my life.
Who knows where I would be if she had died with her mother. I had already loved her for the seven months I knew she existed. I think if Sarah Clare Goldsworthy had died, I would be dead by now. Grief isn't something I take well. If I'm miserable, I'm miserable for a long time and everyone around me will know. If I didn't have another life depending on me, I would have killed myself weeks ago.
But Sarah does need me and she will always come first. Always. I would never take both of her parents away before she could even remember who they were.
I'm looking at her napping in her crib. There's something peaceful about it, her little body spread out on the thin mattress. Her lips form into a small smile; whatever she's dreaming about, it's happy. She sighs. My daughter is blissfully unaware of what is going on in my life, how big a part she plays in it.
Sometimes I just want to give up.
But then I remember how much I have to keep fighting for.
